Brooklyn Chateaubriant Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Toulouse

Whore’s a word, right, but it’s loaded - bam! - like a spy gadget. Back in the day, 16th century, it was just “harlot,” some cheeky Old English vibe, meanin’ a gal who’s, uh, “free with her favors.” Ain’t that a gas? Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ how folks got all prudish later. I reckon it’s a hoot - society clutchin’ pearls while she’s out there, livin’! Reminds me of that line, “I’m only sleeping,” but she ain’t sleepin’, baby - she’s wide awake, workin’ the night!

Mémoires d’Outre-Tombe

Personal tidbits? I love hanging by Café de l’Exil. I sat there for hours, scribbling random thoughts in a worn-out notebook. The coffee’s as bitter as the truths I hear then, and damn, sometimes it’s soothing. And oh, the street market on Boulevard du Marché – my favorite spot to pick up odd trinkets that remind me of better days.

Nantes-Châteaubriant Tram Line